Promise For Never and Always
by thelittlecaligrapher
Summary: It's easy to agree to walking away when you aren't in love and have time to spare. But what happens when the time is gone and you aren't ready to let go? Faberry. Possible two-shot.


Quick note: If I may, I'd like to suggest giving the song All I See by Lydia a listen while or before reading. It's what made me want to write this in the first place. Also, there will be a followup chapter to this, however this does wrap up nicely by itself so you don't have to read the second half if you'd rather make up your own version of how things go.

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><p>It was set in stone. It had to be. They had decided at the front end, even before they started sleeping together, that it would be this way. There was no taking it back. No keeping each other from their dreams. It seemed like such a brilliant idea at the start, a buffer from the possible pain. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.<p>

Rachel was going to New York, following her dream. That was the plan from long before they found themselves stealing kisses and sharing secret, excited smiles. Quinn was going to Yale for college, the decision made official when the acceptance letter came in the mail and was ripped open by nervous but eager hands. That was their plan. No looking back. No strings attached. No changing their minds, their dreams. It was supposed to be easy having planned for it. But they hadn't planned for this.

They didn't mean to fall so in love. The fiery passion had always been there, manifesting itself in bullying and heated stares. The attraction had been immediate and confusing, packaged the way it was. A girl? No way. The longer they fought it the hotter the fire burned until one day they gave up pretending like they didn't feel the heat, the attraction, the need. God, the need. How had they never noticed before?

And now? Where did that desperation for each other leave them? Quinn didn't have a clue. She tried not to think too much about it. _Push it away_. But avoidance hadn't worked before either. And where did that leave them?

The answer: in a bed. A warm, soft, protecting bed that warded off the fears and promises and kept in the whispers and heartbeats and need. It wasn't set in stone here. Nothing was set in stone other than their passion. That was the only thing they knew anymore when they were alone, Quinn's door shut to keep out the world, the lights turned down to keep out the ticking clock, covers pulled over naked skin to keep off the impending chill trying to tame their fire.

But it _was_ set in stone. It wasn't talked about, it was avoided in thought as often as possible, but it was felt everywhere. Their time was ticking, the world was knocking, and the chill was trying to take over. And it just made them burn brighter. The tears to staunch the flames only made them blaze hotter, as if made of gasoline instead of salty pain.

The love between them tried to bind tighter, pull them impossibly close so there would be no start to one or an end to the other. There would just be peace and unity. But there wasn't. Other plans were set in stone. Weren't they?

Two weeks would tell. Two weeks would break them. Two weeks would destroy all that they had made. For what? To create something they both had been working for? Surely that price was too high. But they had agreed. They had promised. What would happen to them? It wasn't ever supposed to end up like this. The summer was supposed to have been spent getting it out of their system, helping them move forward. Instead it lashed them to the steaks they thought themselves ready to walk away from. Long distance wasn't something either of them had intentions of trying. How does one make love to someone miles and miles away?

And the worst part was that they had brought this on themselves. It was self-subscribed punishment aching to cut, held back solely by two weeks. Two weeks and then they'd be free of the steaks they didn't know how to survive without.

"Rach?" Quinn whispered into the dark, stroking her thumb over Rachel's hip bone again.

Rachel hummed her acknowledgment.

"Come closer, baby," she begged, voice choking up on the words to betray her train of thought.

But it wasn't something they talked about, so Rachel just turned over and pulled Quinn against her tighter and tighter until her muscles were shaking from strain. It was the only way they ever spoke of it. Through touches that carried more pain than words would ever convey. Their bodies betrayed them when they refused the words that would have.

A void farther than the miles that would soon separate them had crept into their bed. A void deeper than the love and passion they found together wrapped them up so they couldn't escape. It was their promise – their buffer from the unavoidable pain – that closed around them, held them apart even when their skin was flush together and fingers were busing trying to create something that wouldn't leave them when they had promised to walk away.

The potential for what they could be tore them apart because they were keeping it out. The commitment, the promises that should've been made, the fear of what could be gave birth to a black hole they tried not to get sucked into. It was too late though. They didn't mean to fall so in love.

Their safe place only bred more fear and future heartache. Every moan in pleasure promised worse ones in pain. Every tear that was wiped away instead of talked about became the first of so many more to come. Their promise to follow their dreams made the leap of following their heart too far a jump to make without falling. They needed something to bridge the gap between their hearts' desires and the desires they dreamed of.

"I'll wait for you." A sudden terror doused Quinn's whole body, straining, screaming, weeping for the words back. What was she doing? This wasn't the plan. This wasn't a part of the deal. She was ruining – what? Something that was going to fall apart in two weeks anyway? "We'll find our way back."

A shiver overtook Quinn's body when Rachel pressed a kiss to the hollow base of her throat. "Promise?"

Could one promise bridge a gap made by another? Quinn had never hoped for something more before in her life.

"Yeah, Rach. I promise." Quinn was determined to make this promise set in stone too.

It was something, and that was more than they had minutes ago. Maybe it would be enough to keep them from falling apart. Maybe.


End file.
